Illiterarty.com Book reviews and blogs by Bridget

If this was about a pubescent boy instead of a pubescent girl, it would confirm everything a certain sort of person likes to pretend lurks primarily within the purview of the homosexual mindset. But it isn't, so deal with it, heteros.

Neverwhere is a whimsical tale about a man called Richard, doors, rats, myths, and what really happens underneath London.

If this was written by a middle-class douchebag with all the observational skill but zero percent of the humour, it would be any Ian Fleming book.

If this was a dance, it would be the Charleston.

If this was a dance, it would be the Lindy Hop.

When did Ben Elton go from funny social commentator with a penchant for satiric wit to a bitter, bitter old man? Even if you've been in denial for a while, Blind Faith is terribly disappointing.

When you're trying to compete with Florida Disney for your place in the developers market, everything's fair. Right? Even the invention of an endangered species?

An exciting tale of love, betrayal, money, high fashion, and an unexpected cave man deep in the heart of Texas.

If I were going to be quoted on the front cover of the next edition of this book, I would want my quote to say "Mind-blowingly appalling. Words simply cannot do justice to how low Patricia Cornwell has sunk."

America's answer to Bridget Jones flops spectacularly, in a book that is an embarrassment to read for any fans of the Chick lit genre or Helen Fielding.

Book review: The Best A Man Can Get by John O'Farrell

If this was a razor, it would be a Gillette Mach 3 disposable.

If this was a car, it would be going cheap—a DeLorean someone died in. Pay cash, clean it yourself.

A Time To Kill is the first novel of John Grisham, written in 1989. And it’s not half bad, if you’re into that kind of thing.

If this was an egg, it would be a curate’s egg.

A Painted House is the story of cotton farming, baseball, family secrets, poverty, and growing up in Arkansas in the 1950s. A bit of a deviation from your standard John Grisham, but I’m not complaining.

If this was a gadget from Q’s laboratory, it would be a flame-throwing bassinet.

If this was made into a film starring Elijah Wood, it probably wouldn’t work very well, because it’s far too good a book. Oh wait, whoops.

A story about the loves, lives and losses of four generations of Greeks; from the fishing village Plaka to London; and the devastating effect of the island off the coast of Plaka: Spinalonga.

If this was a meal, it would be a fine Japanese dish eaten with a beautiful returned astronaut.

Wow. Way to hit an all new low in reading! I recall the TV ads for the movie adaption of Patriot Games from way back when, and I remember the huge deal the segments made about how you can identify a woman by her breast size VIA SATELLITE. Oh my God. And now, having read the damn thing, I realise they made a big deal of it because it may have been the high point of the novel. And I mean that in a very relative sense. So there go a couple of hours of my life that I will NEVER GET BACK.